Angels' Don't Cry
by Charlie671b
Summary: Castiel is kidnapped by Alistair and Dean is on a hunt to find his angelic best friend. The eldest Winchester brother finds Cas worse for wear and for some reason the angel looks... different. Destiel PTSD!Castiel Warnings: vividly depicted violence, mild sexual content/reference (M to be safe)
1. Chapter 1

Angel's don't time, his scream reached his true voice. It's ethereal pitch bleeding in over Jimmy's strangled cries. At every new wound, blinding blue-tinged light spread like an icy sun through bloodied clouds. His vessel was shaking in its bindings; flesh burning against the crudely scribed angel sigils.

And Castiel was afraid.

The heavy metal of his own angel blade pressed into poor Jimmy's tattered skin, slicing so neatly the stinging burn of the laceration only came as Castiel's grace stitched the ill healing flesh back together.

"Little angel, fell from high," The demonic voice drawled over its own, made up nursery rhyme; the lyrics of which Castiel had carving rings around his mind. His nasally southern drawl crawled lazily toward the angel's inhabited meat suit, "Down to earth; to learn, to die." Castiel's four edged blade was pressed into the soft of jimmy's belly.

And the angel whimpered.

Castiel, the two thousand year old Angel of The Lord, who had been tortured numerous times; "rehabilitated" by heaven itself.

And he was breaking at the hands of Alastair. Because this demon had worked out the angel's weaknesses – sought them as if it was his life's sole purpose to destroy Castiel. That and Alistair knew; an angel does not feel pain on a physical level – not immediately unless you harm their grace however that would equal permanent damage which the greater demon was reluctant to do. So final option was simply to make the angel experience prolonged pain – forcing him to fall into a human state of mind particularly what with Alistair's attention to detail which happened to prompt the use of anti-grace sigils.

"Oh Angel, now, all I wanna see are those pretty wings o' yours," the demon's middle aged fingers cupped Castiel's adopted cheek, pulling the tarnished face up, forcing the beaten Angel to meet a fiery glare of the pit, blazing in his tormentor's eyes. Castiel's lips parted to scream, in synch with Alistair's twisting smirk, as the heavenly metal sunk into his gut.

"When you torture an angel, it screams, that pain causes a ripple effect of strange incidences."

The words ripped through Dean's memory like ragged glass shards; Weeks he had been missing, god damn weeks. Dammit where the hell was his angel? His phone jumped to life in his pocket and in an instant it was nestled in his palm.

"Give me some good news, Sammy." He growled and his little brother launched into nerd mode; it almost made Dean smile, almost.

"I've managed to pinpoint the centre of all the omens, it took time but each seems to have been similar signs, all pointing to the same place. It's in some church ruins just outside - not sure exactly - careful, I think -" the voice from the other end crackled with static as a screaming whine pierced Dean's head. His knees burned as they hit concrete, palms hot as they pressed to his ears.

"Dean!"

Cas.

Painfully slowly the whine of his angel's true voice faded out; Dean was almost sad to hear it go. He opened his eyes, blinking away the swirling pools in his vision, realising the windows around him had blown out.

Castiel.

He pushed up from the floor where he'd sprawled, rocking precariously as black spots danced across his vision.

"Sammy? Did you hear that?"

"Dean what the hell was that? You oka-?"

"Yeah Sammy," the hunter cradled his pounding head. "Where's my angel?"

He forced the doors of the church open; not caring that this was probably a trap. He'd taken out two demons already, scratched out four angel sigils; He was closing in on Castiel. Human sounding screams echoed around the walls, sending chills down Dean's spine. Memories of icy fire drilled into his blood; knives, death, never sleeping. Alistair hissing in his ear; like a twisted lover-

No, Dean shook his head; that was then.

Now, he had to find Cas.

Alistair chuckled as he pierced the helpless warrior with its own blade. The four edges each carving and twisting a new path with every tiny flick of his wrist. The demon could feel the little angel's grace ebbing and with it Castiel's will. An angelic knife hit home, deep within the vessel's shoulder and Alistair yelled out in childish joy as the celestial being screamed.

The hunter squinted through the shadows at off centre pews, thrown about upon entrance; other than fallen tapestries and out of order seating - the high-ceiling room was deserted.

"Shit," Dean muttered. 'Must've moved on,' he thought bitterly. "Come on, Cas, buddy. Gimme a sign- anything!" Minutes lazed by, the eerie silence making his skin crawl. With a sigh, Dean turned to leave. His fist slammed into the back of a pew, splintering the rotten wood. With a snarl Dean shook off his hand; blood splattered the dusty cement floor and stone walls as he did.

Something clicked.

Dean looked up toward the sound, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief as he stared at the huge arched doorway, inscribed with thousands of coiling, twisted sigils; where the hunter's blood touched the carefully carved lines, they glowed.

"Sonuvabitch, 'found freakin' Narnia." Dean neared the heavily warded door and then, glaring determinedly, he began to tear at the sigils until his fingers were bloody; figuring that it would, at least, help Cas's strength,

'Almost got him,' he thought. The sudden screeching resonance of an angel's voice cut deeply into his soul, his heart ached fiercely in his anger. When the ringing in his ears calmed, it was silence that struck him as hard as a punch to the gut; the doors were open.

Castiel's throat felt raw, his cries no longer held volume; just air, passing through empty space. His wrists burned in a human pain, metal cuffs carving into the narrow joint causing streams of red to leak down over his forearms; every now and then, as he swung from the ceiling, he could hear the squelch of the liquid between his borrowed flesh and the relentless grey iron. Muscles in his shoulders screamed as they tried to keep the humorous bones attached to his scapulae. His spine throbbed under his own weight and any feeling in his fingers was gone. Chin on chest, Castiel stared down at the ground; grey concrete at least three feet from his toes. Gritting his teeth, breath hissing between them, his bare body tensed in a never ending pain - every taught muscle gleaming with sweat-slicked grime; splattered red drying and peeling.

"Come on angel, show me your pretty wings," Alistair's hands directed the four-edged tool down between the angel's shoulders, tracing the crests of his humanoid spine. Castiel keened as the cold weapon traipsed down his back, teasing- threatening.

"I can't,"

Alistair jumped back in delighted surprise; his hands clapping around the hilt of his instrument.

"Why ever not, my sweet?" The endearment made Alistair's toes curl in disgust but he grinned as the being below him shuddered.

"This dimension...this form does not have the...shape required. The agony would be...unimaginable." Castiel's choked voice brought peals of laughter to the demons lips and Cas cringed, realising his mistake.

"Unimaginable, you say?" Brutally crafted metal crunched through the flat of a shoulder blade, blood pit-pattered innocently against the dusty ground as muscle gurgled like a squeezed sponge; its pointed tip cut straight into the back of Jimmy's lung and the arm above the wound popped and Cas's shoulder crunched as it was wrenched from its joint; forcing half the angels weight to hang on flesh alone, Castiel could feel it tearing. Alistair leaned toward Castiel's ear, feeling the angel's hot breath brush his cheek as he gaped- too pained to talk.

"All alone Angel, no one to turn to now you've turned on your own family. Tsk, tsk, tsk naughty little traitor. No one's going to save you anymore," with a short laugh the demon wrenched the blade slickly from Cas's shoulder, the angel gagged as he coughed blood.

Giggling hysterically Alistair lined the point of the knife with the other shoulder, pressing steadily into yet unmarked flesh. "I'll make it easier for you, shall I? Two holes for two wings," grinning Alistair plunged the blade past skin, muscle and bone, the pleasure of the angels scream rolling through him.

He frowned however, when the word sung, was none other than the name of his favourite student.

"No," Dean's voice bounced over the silence even though he'd only spoken in a whisper. His heart hammered painfully against his engraved ribs, his breath hitching. There was the door, light spilled through it like a calling to Dean but he couldn't move. Someone stood in the way,

'Not someone, something,' the hunter trembled.

The greater demon looked up, grinning.

"Oh honey, you're home."


	2. Chapter 2

Alistair could see how Dean's form shivered at the sound of his voice and it made him tingle in his nether regions.

"Why Dean, it's been so long, I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"What are you doing here?" Dean spat. Hell's angel twirled the blood-slick heavenly blade, tilting his head; leering at the 'righteous' man.

"Now, now Dean. No need to be rude." Alistair smirked as he saw Dean's fists clench.

"Where's Cas?" The demon just smiled, excitement flourishing in his long rotten gut.

"Where is Castiel?" Alistair shrugged and turned his back to Dean.

Two bullets slid into his back with soft putting sounds; He chuckled humourlessly.

"Oh Dean, that tickled."

He expected the hunter to yell or fire more pointless rounds into his stolen flesh but instead a fierce whisper cut into Alistair's long congealed veins.

"What have you done with my angel, you charred sonuvabitch."

The greater demon just took another step away from Dean, as another putting noise ricocheted through his skull.

One more shot at Alistair's feet and Dean's finger slid from the Colt's trigger, the pentagram-carved bullets now firmly buried in the cement and Alistair's borrowed brain matter.

Dean released his breath.

"You look a little stuck, Al. In a bit, you bastard," with that the hunter stormed past the frozen devil spawn, jogging into the next room.

Castiel flinched at every shot fired.

'Any of those could have killed Dean,' he thought. The moment he'd heard Dean's brash voice he was filled with elated hope, only to have it crushed right back down again. If Dean's safety was part of the bargain, Cas would do anything for the manipulative demon. Castiel wheezed as Jimmy and hi own dead weight dragged him down toward the hard ground; his legs numb beneath him and his hands stone cold with lack of circulation.

Footsteps rattled the broken glass around him and he sobbed; Dean was dead and Alistair had come to finish him off.

Dean stared around the dark back room, his eyes drawn to the fiery ring in the centre.

An ashen looking mass hung, cocoon-like in the middle of the sparking flames like a thousand flocking birds, its hunched form looked badly beaten and although Dean couldn't exactly make out clear shapes, the form looked tattered and tired.

"Kill me, I'm broken, useless to you now, please-" that deep, throaty voice had never been so vulnerable, so stripped of power; Dean's stomach dropped - there he was.

"Cas," the hunter's feet instantly made toward the limp mockery of a decoration, "Oh God- Cas," Dean sprinted toward his angel, the fire warming his legs even from the door.

Castiel was chained up from the high ceiling, pale skin around his feet and calves was severely blistering with the nearness to the surrounding ring of holy fire. Leaping the circular heat he dropped beneath Castiel.

Castiel's heart twisted; Dean. The footsteps quickened as the hunter- his hunter- drew nearer until finally two combat boots landed heavily next to him, the hunter's movement sending a cool wind past his vessel's seared legs.

"Dean," he stated. The familiar smell of leather, alcohol and sweat overpowered the scent of his burning flesh so he inhaled, a small, weary smile tilting his lips. "Hello Dean,"

"Hey Cas," Castiel's brow creased as he caught the hitch in Dean's voice. "Hold on man, I'll get you out, just wait a sec, okay?" Castiel didn't reply other than to unravel his wings from around himself to fold them tightly against his torn back, revealing the warded cuffs around each limb. He hummed to himself happily as Dean's sinful mutterings worked through how to get him down.

"Son of a bitch, fudgin' bastard, I'm gonna kill that freak of nature..." Castiel closed his eyes. He felt safe; he felt home.

Dean studied the out of reach restraint religiously, grunting and cursing before glancing bashfully at Cas, and apologising. Finally Dean sighed and pulled out his gun,

"Get ready, Cas. I'm gonna shoot you down buddy." Thick chain pinged as it snapped and the hunter spread his arms in order to catch his angel; the moment Castiel it his arms Dean followed through with his weight until they were both on the floor.

"Cas?" He murmured close to the angel's ear, "Cas, can you get up? Can you walk? We need to go,"

He waited for a response, and got none. "Castiel-"

The angel's quivering arms reached for Dean's shoulder, his body shaking as he pulled himself up. Reflexively, Dean placed his hands under Cas's armpits, supporting the weakened being as he knelt; hands now gripping the hunter's arms. Dean shuffled until his knees touched Cas's, pulling the angel, gently, into his chest.

"You came," Castiel whispered and Dean's breath caught.

"Of course I did, Cas, you're family man, I ain't ever gonna leave you."

And his angel sobbed.

"It hurts, Dean. Everything-" Castiel buried his face into the hunter's leather-clad shoulder. Dean spread his hands over Cas's sticky back and gasped. The angel's back was sliced methodically and slick with blood; that had to be beyond painful. "God Cas you're cut up bad, man."

Cas seemed to zone out, muttering to himself, "If I hadn't have been so weak-"

"Shut up." Dean growled, "Don't you say one more thing you idiot."

He pulled away from his angel noting the whimper. His hands cupped Castiel's cheeks,

"Let's get you home, hey?" Dean waited until Cas nodded. The hunter assisted his friend in standing then looked over the smaller man's form. "Cas, can you put your wings away?"

Immediately Castiel's eyes brimmed with tight-lipped tears and he shook his head. "Hey, it'll be okay, we'll manage. Here," Dean's hands began to fumble with the buckle of his belt, gently sliding from its loops. "This'll probably hurt like a bitch, sorry buddy," Dean cautiously reached around the frail angel, using the belt to fold Cas's wings into his waist; re-buckling the leather just under Jimmy's belly button. Castiel hissed as his wings were jostled but made no other sound. "Okay, let's go," and Dean hooked his arms under the angel's shivering knees, the other just above his wings, and lifted.

"Dean-!" The angel's eyes were wide as his fingers gripped Dean's back.

"Relax Cas, I got you. You're safe now," The hunter was surprised by how little difference there was in the smaller man's weight.

Angel cradled to his chest, Dean scuffed out the holy fire with a well-worn boot, as soon as he broke through he was jogging back to the impala, wincing whenever he jolted Cas, expecting him to cry out or at least let his breathing hitch; his silence was worrying. They reached the middle room and Dean felt Cas's heart rate pick up. The angel's wild blue gaze was pinned on Alistair; still frozen in the middle of the room.

"Cas," the hunter whispered, "Castiel," Dean jostled his angel until Castiel turned his face to look at Dean and then slowly, uncertainly, pressed his face into his charge's neck. "That's it, come on, I'm gettin' us out," the hunter ran straight to the next door, ignoring Alistair's eyes following them.

"Catch you later Little Angel, Dean."

The moment they crossed the threshold into the abandoned church Cas gasped and arched in his charge's grip.

"My grace, Dean ah-!" The angel crumpled in pain, moaning into Dean's chest.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I'm doing my best,"

Cas settled in the back seat of the impala, flat on his stomach, wings tucked tightly against his back. Dean sat behind the wheel, for once unable to hum, casting nervous glances back at his angel's rigid form.

"Hey, Cas? How you doing back there, buddy?" Silence met Dean as a sickening answer. "Cas? Castiel!" Still nothing. The hunter glared worriedly through his rear view mirror at the beaten man who was currently staring pointedly at the ground. Dean released his breath - Cas was fine; just needed some time. "Whatever man." And Dean started to sing, pumping up the volume of his music to cover the hitch in his voice; he stepped harder on the Chevy's gas pedal.

Castiel did his best to ignore Dean's worried voice, his body felt heated with embarrassment, self-pity and general pain. His inglorious wings throbbed painfully while his exhausted grace worked tirelessly to heal all of his vessel's wounds; before he was numb but now...

The angel couldn't tell where Dean and he were, or the distance from there to the bunker but his back ached awfully, the newly developed bone structure straining his muscles, he couldn't stay like this much longer.

"Dean," he murmured, the music drowning out his voice. A sudden pull in his stomach made his throat clench. "Pull over! Dean-" the hunter's head whipped round to see what had him so riled, realisation clicked and the Chevy swerved into a verge. In seconds Dean had pulled open the side door and was yanking Cas out by his shoulders.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean supported Castiel's body gingerly as the angel retched over the grassy roadside. He held Cas's shoulders, wanting to pat his back but what with the wings, he felt slightly...awkward.

"It's alright, Cas. I'm here buddy, that's it, just get it out." After a moment Cas's body stilled. "You okay?"

"No. Dean, I cannot travel like this any further. I need to...rest."

The hunter took in his angel's gaunt face, eyes bruised, skin cut and torn; a thick layer of blood, sweat and grime slicked his body. Vibrant blue irises looked pale and that made Dean's heart squeeze tighter than any of Cas's injuries. His angel was kneeling on the verge, blackened feathers placed on the back seat behind him; the smaller man's arms seemed to unconsciously move to cross over his own chest. Dean blinked, realising how naked Castiel was. Ears heating, the hunter cleared his throat, shrugging out of his leather jacket he placed it over Cas's chest, noting how the angel gripped it tightly, brought the collar to his chin and breathed deeply; his purpled eyelids fluttering closed.

"Okay Cas, there'll be a motel nearby. We can stop off, I'll call Sammy, and it'll be fine, okay?"

Dean's jacket smelt delicious. The worn leather scented by sweet blood, salty skin and Dean's musky aftershave. All home smells; all Dean. Castiel sighed to himself as the soft fabric warmed his aching body. Dean was muttering something to him but Cas just wanted to- he didn't know this feeling. His empty stomach made him feel weak, his grace too tired to replenish his nutritional levels. For once the angel's mind felt foggy, as he blinked, the verge pitched and churned and rushed up to meet him.

Castiel fell forward into the grass, smoky wings spilling out over his body like choking smoke, bound in brown leather; storm clouds over the moon. At once Dean lunged down to his partner's side, shaking the slim shoulders of Cas's vessel and then he stopped. Soft breathing met his ears, peaceful breathing; sleepy breathing.

Castiel had fallen asleep.

As gently as possible -considering the man-size, feathered appendages plus the actual man himself- the hunter bundled his angel into the back seat, front side down; leather jacket still firmly clasped between Cas's fingers. Rushing back into the driver's seat, Dean kicked the engine to life, in immediate search of the nearest motel.

An hour later Dean had successfully transferred his angel into the king bed suite, laying the smaller man down on his front; slowly and with as much care as he could he slipped his belt from around Cas's waist - Dean glanced over at Cas before bringing the phone to his ear.

"Detective Ryan-"

"Hey Sammy, it's me."

"Dean! Where the hell are you? You know how late you are, right? I thought you'd been ganked you asshole." Sam ranted, adding as an after note, his voice quiet and uncertain, "What about Cas?"

"We're fine Sammy. Well...Cas has been better but he's okay. He couldn't handle the drive after- err...new stuff came up. Sammy, I've got to go, Cas is waking up."

"Cas is asleep? Dean what-?"

Dean promptly hung up, cutting his not-so-little brother off, mid complaint. "Bitch," he muttered before heading toward the basin. Snapping a towel from the rack, Dean bunched it and stuck the cheap fabric under half-warm torrent; it would have to do.

Castiel could feel a sharp sensation on his leg, hot and sore. The flow of heat burned through him, over him, consuming him in one aching wave. His body shuddered, long wings trembling and splaying above him.

A soft gasp snapped Castiel out of his sleepy stupor.

His aches became much more incredibly apparent, his wounds itching and stinging, the burns heating as they brushed over the bedding when he moved. Turning onto a wing he shoved his back up against a headboard; appendages cocooning him defensively.

"Cas- hey, it's me! You okay? Castiel?" Dean held a soiled towel in one hand, the other raised in a calming motion, like taming an animal.

"What are you doing, Dean?" Castiel murmured, eyes fixed on his hunter.

"I'm just trying to clean you up a bit," Cas noticed a light pink tinge rising in Dean's cheeks as the taller man averted his eyes. Tilting his head, Cas studied the colour change curiously. "Trying to clean your cuts." Slowly, Castiel relaxed his newly manifested limbs, allowing them to spread out either side of him. The angel watched as Dean's eyes raked down his body cataloguing every laceration. The hunter's cheeks reddened further as his eyes lingered over Castiel's hips.

"Dean," the angel's heart stuttered as the green eyed man's attention snapped back up to his face. "Would you...continue, please?"

Dean cursed himself for taking advantage of his innocent angel. Castiel's eyes -that had only recently been round with terror-blinked back at him, soft and gentle. Nodding slowly, Dean crawled up the bed until he was kneeling by Cas's hip; the shredded wings preventing him going any further.

"This might sting, Cas." Gently, the hunter brought the towel down onto the angel's arm, softly dabbing at a particularly bloody bruise. The angel hissed as the coarse fabric ran over his raw skin and jerked his arm away. "Dammit, Cas, sorry. I'm sorry," After all the pain his angel had been through and now Dean was just making it worse. "I gotta clean these,"

"My grace will do it-"

"Castiel, you are exhausted, let me help. What can I do?" The hunter glared at the smaller man while Cas thought.

"There is one thing but...Dean, you won't like it." The angel avoided his gaze, a red tinge rising in his pallid cheeks.

"God dammit Cas, tell me, I want to help." Sitting back on his heels, Dean noticed Cas's wing curling back to cover the lithe body. "Don't hide from me Castiel. Come on man, don't make me beg." Cas seemed to consider this a moment then, as usual, staring straight through Dean's eyes into his soul, Cas spoke.

"Well Dean, as you are the righteous man your soul is brighter than even the most devout being. And I am, in all the ways that count, your Guardian angel. We have a particular bond between your soul and my grace meaning I can heal you with my energy and you-"

"I can heal you with mine... right?" Dean scrutinised his angel's face, that didn't seem so bad. "Okay, what do I do?" The hunter hovered his hands in the air, ready to dive into action at any moment.

"Well, I have to touch your soul-" Dean winced at the thought, Bobby had told him how that felt. Cas seemed to sense his fear, "Dean, it will not hurt you. Unlike Bobby, we are connected through your soul already. Energy from your soul will transfer through just your skin, my grace and your soul already know one another intimately enough for contact to be enough." The hunter cringed slightly, he didn't think he knew Cas's grace all that '_intimately_'...his brow furrowed.

"So...that's it? I just have to touch you?"

Castiel nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off of Dean for even one second. Hesitantly, the hunter placed a finger just below the welt on his wrist.

Nothing happened.

He looked back up to the angel's face, "I don't think-" Castiel's eyes had already fluttered closed, his breath deepening.

"It is working."


End file.
